


Intercepted

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: Prompt: Accidentally sending a text the other wasn't supposed to see.





	Intercepted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YouSetTheTone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouSetTheTone/gifts).



Cat has always kept up with technology, not religiously but enough to always know what’s cool and how to use it. Then, later, what to invest in and bring under the CatCo umbrella. Her phones are replaced as soon as a new model is in pre-release, and she wasn’t entirely bragging when she told Adam her influence on the need for portable news and communication that goes beyond calls. 

She has other people to take her calls. To field the sheer volume of her emails. To tweet and update Facebook for her. She sends her own snaps now and then, although she hates the idiotic filters. But when it comes to private communications with her nearest, dearest, and the occasional exclusive, she controls all of that from her own phone (Samsung for work contacts, iPhone for personal) with no outside help.

Which has meant over the years that various husbands have gone unanswered, her mother has been intermittently blocked, and there has never been a message regarding Carter that she hasn’t seen within five minutes of receiving it. 

All of which results in one rather unfortunate truth. When, in the midst of juggling conversations with Lois (insulting and possibly illegal in at least thirteen states from language choice alone) and Kara (who is locked in a battle of journalistic ethics with James Olsen and winning, _again_ ), Cat accidentally mixes up the two windows… well, she has no one to blame but herself. 

That doesn’t exactly stop her blaming her new ‘roaming’ personal assistant or the unfortunate waiter who comes to take her lunch order or three random people within yelling distance. It’s worth the public scene, not least because Tim Cook doesn’t take her calls the way Steve always did, and who the hell owns whatever network Kara is on? Can they delete texts from their server?

All of which becomes moot because the status saying _Delivered_ quickly turns to _Read 3:54 PM._

Not for the first time in her life, Cat Grant needs an excellent cover story, and she needs it immediately. A perfect time for her brain to go completely blank instead of straight into scheming mode. 

She is never going to live this down.

***

“I mean, you have media in the future, don’t you?” Kara pauses for breath mid-rant, not because she actually needs to breathe, but more as a form of punctuation. And to gather her thoughts. Cat taught her that trick: a cure for senseless rambling, she’d called it. Focusing on Brainy again, Kara tries to continue upbraiding him for saying that 21st-century media is irrelevant. “And-”

“Kara, you’ve just received a message. Since, like most people your age, you leave your phone on silent or vibrate, the fact that this one person warrants an audible text tone would suggest that they’re important to you. That you would be reluctant to miss their communication. Since Alex is standing in my sightline and holding no communication device, I can assume the missive is not from her.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that… well, okay, I do have Cat as an exception to my do not disturb mode. I had to do that when I worked for her, and then because I didn’t hear from her much at first I kept it that way so I wouldn’t miss her. And… you know what? We’re not done with this.”

By the time she pulls her phone out of her red leather boot, Brainy has fled to the opposite side of the DEO Command Center. 

Then she finally reads the message from Cat, and Kara forgets what she was ever angry about in the first place.

***

It isn’t easy, communication with Argo. 

Kal being there to learn about his culture at long last has improved things, and although the greedy part of Kara who wanted to see her mom as often as possible had silently protested, she’d been happy to cover things on Earth to let him go.

In a way, it’s not so different from going to talk to the AI that Alex set up for her. The only place that can power the comms link is a specialized room within the DEO, and as soon as Kara’s mind stops racing, she marches right down there. 

Long minutes pass as she waits for Alura to connect on the other end of the call. 

“Hey, mom.”

“Kara.” No one else says her name quite that way, so exactly _right_. The Kryptonian inflection makes Kara feel known, and she needs that more than ever right now. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just missed you. It’s been a bit of a strange day, that’s all.”

“Something’s troubling you.” Her mom squints over the connection, analyzing Kara’s expression. “And it must be something very old or very private because otherwise, you would have gone to Alex or some Earth friend.”

“I never could get anything past you,” Kara says, fighting a smile. “I’ve never been good at discussing my love life. And honestly, looking back at the mess with Mon-El, I’m not sure I trust the people who said he was good for me to give me a good opinion now, you know?”

“I believe I expressed admiration for him,” Alura reminds her daughter. “Though I confess that changed when I learned he was married but still pursuing you. Once a Daxamite…”

Nothing like a bit of casual xenophobia to remind Kara she really has her Kryptonian mom back. 

“It’s just, there’s always been someone else. Someone who wasn’t even an option, like way, way out of my league and not… I mean… Mom, you’d still love me if I was attracted to women as well as men, right? I always wanted to ask you that, as I grew up. As I realized.”

The answering smile is warm and accepting. “Of course, Kara. You loving someone--anyone--could never disappoint me. I have my reservations about humans, but not their genders.” 

“Good.” Kara exhales low and loud, a residual tension coming with it. “Before I was Supergirl; before I learned to help the people of National City: I had a different job.”

“Before being a reporter?”

“Yes. I worked as the assistant to Cat Grant. She’s…”

“I’m getting a strong impression from how you’re smiling right now. But Kara, surely there’s no one on Earth that could find my daughter unworthy?”

“There are a lot of reasons why Ms Grant would never consider me, not… like that. But then just before I called, I got this message from her.”

“Did she proposition you?” 

“No, not… exactly? Actually, I don’t think the message is even intended for me, because she’s talking about me in the third person and oh god, who was she talking to about me? And in that kind of _detail_?”

Her mom is looking more amused by the second. “I fail to see where you need my advice. It seems quite clear what you want, and now you have some indication this Cat woman feels the same.”

“I guess I just wanted to hear from someone who doesn’t have the wrong idea about her. No preconceived notions, you know? But honestly, if the message isn’t meant for me, maybe I should just ignore it.”

“The universe has ways of telling us what we need most.” The connection starts to flicker. “Another storm. I have to go, Kara. I have to secure…”

Just static. Kara ends the interplanetary call with a tap of her hand, used to the limitations by now. It’s really something, to be able to ask her mom’s advice for real again. She pulls out her phone and reads the message again, to make sure she hasn’t dreamed or hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe she should check with Alex that no Black Mercies are on the loose.

There’s nothing else for it. Big girl pants, as Cat would tell her. Kara taps her thumb in the reply field and summons every ounce of her courage. Bullets and bombs may not be able to hurt her, but Cat Grant certainly can. 

***

The wait is agonizing.

Kara, who usually replies too fast and too hard and cracks too many screens in her eagerness, is taking her damn time. 

In the meantime, Cat continues the inappropriate conversation she was having with Lois, throwing in her spikiest barbs to let some of her nervous frustration out. Lois is more than used to it, giving as good as she gets. It does nothing to stop Cat’s heart thudding against her ribcage every time her phone vibrates. Each time, not Kara.

Then, finally:

_I don’t think you meant that text for me_

A way out? Cat isn’t too proud to try and make it one.

_Please just ignore it. I was talking to Lois and you know how she makes me crazy._

Cat winces at the choice of language, but it’s the closest she can find to convincing in such a limited medium. Time to hope that Kara’s muscle memory for obeying her every command will kick in and end this small mortification.

And really, with anyone else Cat would brazen it out. She’s never really cared what she says to most people, as long as it sounds appropriately poignant or witty in the moment. The beauty of coming up as a reporter is that she honed her voice to be first, loudest, and the most informed. She never had to write for posterity, or to be quoted in textbooks ten years later. 

Kara, though. The same Kara whose name she got wrong on purpose, who absorbed every little insult or thoughtless remark. It matters somehow, more than it was ever supposed to, what she thinks of Cat’s words now. 

_What if I don’t want to ignore it?_

Well. That really is the million-dollar question. When exactly did Kara get so bold? Cat can trace the development almost to the day, sees her own hand in it as clearly as she sees Kara’s own heroic nature. 

_If what I mentioned in that text is of interest to you…_

Kara answered instantly. _It is._

_Then I suppose you could come and see me tonight. You know where I am, I’ll be waiting on the balcony_

There. Plausible deniability. Cat hasn’t repeated any of the incriminating message, so she can probably bluff her way through it if Kara has some kind of ulterior motive. Even as she thinks it, Cat knows it’s less than likely. There’s no conflict with Cat still on the outside of her own company, and though her words to Lois were a little graphic, it’s nothing that can’t be laughed off or explained away if Cat really thinks about it.

The trouble is she doesn’t want to do either. There’s nothing funny, not anymore, about how she feels about Kara. Why search for another explanation when _yes, I want you. Like that._ would suffice. Not to mention it has the added benefit of being the truth, something Cat built her career and her empire around. 

_I’ll be by around ten_

Well. The course is set, the collision is imminent. The best part of being home in National City is that at least Cat finds herself with home court advantage. If she can’t be at CatCo, her next most fortified location has always been her penthouse. Carter might prefer the beach house, but she always feels most herself in the twinkling lights of downtown. 

The question is whether Kara will approach as the former assistant, all skintight jeans and dowdy cardigans, or be bold enough to enter the scene from above. Heading for her bedroom, Cat is already mentally considering and discarding outfits for later. However it all plays out, she’s going to look her fabulous best while it does. 

***

Eventually, Kara can take the nerves no longer and calls Alex to come over. To her sister’s credit, it takes about half a sentence before she works out what the hell is going on and fills in the blanks for herself.

“Okay, so show me this suggestive text Cat sent you, and we’ll decide from there.”

“No.” Kara is adamant. “It’s private. I gave you the general… area. Now I’m going over there.”

“And admitting your planet-sized crush on her?”

Kara pouts. “It’s not a crush, it’s…”

“The willingness to run over there the first time she sexts you?” Alex is clearly enjoying Kara’s misery, sprawled out on the sofa and tossing an apple in the air over and over. To spite her, Kara superspeeds around her and takes a huge bite out of it, prompting Alex to drop it in mock disgust once she realises.

“This is why I went to my mom first, you know. Serious help only, Alex. This might be my one chance.”

“I mean, I have my reservations about Cat Grant,” Alex says, thinking out loud. “But I’d rather see you married off to a Hellgrammite than mope around after a waste of space like Mon-El again so… I guess you have my blessing. What are you going to wear?”

“I have no idea!” Kara finds herself hovering just off the ground in her panic. “That’s kind of why you’re here.”

“I have many skills Kara, but the only looks my closest serves are ‘government operative’ and ‘lesbian with a motorbike’. You know this. This is going to take someone who knows fashion.”

“I know the perfect girl for the job!” Kara smacks her forehead at missing the obvious choice, pulling her phone from her pocket. “I’ll text Nia.”

***

Cat resists the urge for a third glass of Scotch, her version of relative sobriety. Carter watches her pace as the clock ticks past nine, not as engrossed in his chemistry homework as he's pretending to be.

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is something wrong? You’re all… uptight, like before you went to the yurt.”

“I have a late meeting,” she admits to her son. “One you’ll be safely tucked up in bed for, so watch the time, please.”

“Mom, is it Kara again?”

That stops her cold. “What makes you say that?”

“The last time you were so… y’know, it’s because you didn’t know how to tell Kara you were leaving. I know you’re not going anywhere this time--you would have told me first--but is something wrong?”

“My meeting is with Kara,” Cat says, not in the habit of lying to her son. “Earlier today she found out something I’ve been keeping from her. We’re going to see if things are okay now.”

Carter considers, tapping at something on his tablet. 

“Did you finally tell her you like her?”

“You know, it’s really time you got showered and into your pajamas, young man.”

That just seems to amuse him, and he unfolds his longer-than-ever legs from the sofa, packing up his school supplies into his backpack.

“You can dodge me, Mom, but I think you’ve avoided telling Kara for long enough. Would she even be coming over if she didn’t like you, too?”

“Thank you for the relationship advice, oh wise one. Done a lot of dating have you?”

“Well, I haven’t been divorced four times or anything…”

Cat is startled into silence for a moment. Perhaps it’s not so unexpected that Carter would follow in her sarcastic footsteps, but hearing out loud, at _her_ is certainly one for the record books.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll just go get that shower.” Carter has the good sense to put some pep in his step and he scurries off down the hall. 

Cat sits herself on the piano stool, with its perfect view down the hallway and out towards the balcony that wraps around the penthouse. The faint sound of water running says at least Carter is doing as he’s told. She checks her watch, a delicate band of gold at her wrist, and sighs that ten o’clock seems as far away as ever. 

***

Kara’s relieved when the doorman doesn’t just wave her right through. Although she came to Cat’s home regularly for two years, she hasn’t been there in months. She doesn’t recognize him either, so she dutifully provides her ID and lets him check the list.

Thankfully, Kara Danvers is still on it. She even convinces him not to call up, saying that it’s past Carter’s bedtime and Cat will be mad at both of them. Clearly, this man has worked there long enough to know that’s a realistic threat. 

She must be nervous. Kara’s in the elevator and on her way up before she notices she didn’t even ask his name. There’s no time to dwell because the elevator whisks her up all those floors almost as fast as she could fly them. It’s only cheating, a little, to scan the walls with x-ray vision before the elevator doors open. Kara simply wants to confirm if Carter is home, or if Cat is all alone. She catches a glimpse of Carter sitting up in bed, reading a comic. Cat is all alone deeper into the apartment, in the living room where she used to receive Kara for signing late paperwork or accepting special deliveries. 

Smoothing down the smart white dress Nia picked out for her, Kara can’t help feeling that maybe she should have come as Supergirl, get that awkward conversation out of the way once and for all. Still, the dress is pretty flattering, especially to her arms, and Kara doesn’t think it will hurt to look her best, even if she is struggling to walk a little in the patent black pumps. Having an advantage over gravity smooths out the worst of her stumbles. As a last-minute compromise, she pulls her hair from its French twist and lets it cascade over her shoulders and cover the top of her bare arms. She leaves her glasses in place but feels quite sure she’ll be removing them one way or another before this evening is out.

The elevator doors finally slide apart, no doubt at Cat’s control, and Kara steps out into the otherwise empty hallway.

Here goes nothing.

***

“Well,” Cat says, stepping out where Kara isn’t looking, taking her by surprise for half a second. “Don’t you scrub up nicely?”

“Miss- Cat,” Kara course corrects, adapting to their updated situation. “You look lovely.”

Cat should certainly hope so, the flowing pants were a panic purchase from Barney’s that one of her personal shoppers delivered personally. The silky camisole top doesn’t leave much to the imagination beyond the shaping of the lingerie beneath it. She hasn’t come to this conversation dressed for battle; in some cultures she’s barely dressed for bed. It pleases her, instinctively, that while she’s in simple black-and-white, Kara has worn a perfectly complementary outfit, mostly white to Cat’s predominantly black. 

“Do you need a drink? I’ve just poured one. I forgot how punctual you can be, Kara.”

A shake of the head, which only emphasizes that the honey-blond curls are down and more suited to a certain alter ego than the former assistant. Cat considers, before taking Kara’s purse and tossing it on the table, leading her out to the balcony with nothing more than a nod and the expectation of being dutifully followed. 

As always, Cat is correct in her expectation. What she doesn’t expect is for Kara to step past her, leaning on the balcony and looking out over the city as though it doesn’t matter whether Cat is there or not. It’s something she’s often done at CatCo, though only as Supergirl and never so boldly as Kara.

“I’m surprised you kept the glasses on,” Cat says, faintly impressed when Kara doesn’t turn around in acknowledgement. “The hair alone really does give it away, you know.”

Kara slips the dark frames down her nose, before folding them and tucking them into the collar of her dress. When the turns, in profile, it’s a miracle anyone ever missed the resemblance. 

“There,” Kara says, stunning in the muted balcony lights. “I’ve told you the truth. Now you can do the same. Who was that message meant for?”

“Lois. We were having one of our… debates.”

“Why were you talking about me?”

Cat takes up the spot next to Kara, leaning her elbows on the balcony wall. They don’t look directly at each other; they can’t for this part. 

“I may have implied some things about the prowess of her boyfriend. Your cousin, as I now know for sure. She retaliated by pointing out that at least she had bedded the object of her affections.”

“Which makes me-”

“There’s no excuse for what I said in that message, whether you ever saw it or not. If you had still been working for me… well, you’d have been within your rights to sue these pants right off me.”

Kara gives an appreciative sidelong glance. “They do fit you very well.” Well, well. The Kryptonian could flirt after all. 

“Usually, if I’m trying to seduce someone, I have a lot more tact.”

The look on Kara’s face is incredulous, and Cat has to admit she was pushing it with that one. “Okay, I would at least start and the start and not skip straight to something so… graphic.”

“It did make me blush,” Kara admits. “But then I couldn’t think of anything else all day. I walked through a door at the DEO and pulled the whole thing off its hinges. Reinforced steel. I hope they don’t take it out of my wages.”

“Kara, you don’t have to-”

Silencing with a kiss? As tactics go, Cat has to confess it’s as effective as it is pleasant, and she reaches blindly for Kara to pull her even closer. Kara kisses with devastating thoroughness. Where Cat expected tentative and unsure, instead she’s being kissed by someone who seems intent on learning every last inch of her, and that sends a sharp thrill straight down her spine. 

“I want to,” Kara murmurs when they part for a second, barely moving away as she speaks. The words tickle at Cat’s lips, still tingling. “I never thought I’d have a chance with you, but it looks like I do now. Right?”

Cat nods, a little punchdrunk from the kiss. She runs her arms up and down those muscular biceps, marveling at the unthinkable strength they contain. Kara, in all her superpowered glory, right here and oh, kissing Cat again until she thinks her head might fly off. 

“You definitely have your chance,” Cat agrees, taking Kara by the hand and leading her to the couch that gives them a perfect view out over the city. Not that Cat has eyes for anything beyond Kara herself. “I’m starting to feel glad I sent you that message now. Any complaints?”

“Only that you didn’t tell me what else you were going to do next,” Kara points out. Her fingers are tangling in Cat’s hair as they sit close together, knees touching. “But I think we’ll get to that, won’t we?”

“Yes,” Cat confirms, voice low and raspy. “We definitely will.”


End file.
